mnemophobia | dh + pl

nine

a/n: does anyone else ever get writer's block for one particular story?? I can write this and my oneshots with ease but can barely manage to squeeze a chapter out of write. I've literally got nothing done this break and I hate myself for that.

(also comments are great so if you wanna tell me what you think of this chapter, I'll love u 4ever x)

Dan's pov

I gave my driver his money and stepped out of the taxi, straightening out my clothes. After last week's disastrous date, Phil had invited me to his house to hang out for a bit.

I was feeling confident today and had dressed in something a bit bolder than my usual look: a cropped, light-pink sweatshirt; a pair of very skinny white-washed jeans; some white vans; a matching white, velvet choker; and my cherry blossom flower crown. I had felt cute leaving my flat, but I began to doubt myself as I got in the elevator.

"What if Phil thinks I'm trying too hard? Is the cropped sweatshirt cute or does it look slutty? I don't want to seem desperate..."

As much as I would have loved to sprint home and change into something more modest, the elevator had just stopped on Phil's floor—there was no turning back.

I knocked on the door, butterflies quarreling in my stomach. I could hear heavy footsteps walking around, and a few seconds later the door was opened.

"Hey," We greeted each other in synchronicity, both laughing softly afterward.

As Phil's chuckle died down, his eyes slowly trailed down my image, a smirk pulling at his lips. "You look incredible."

My insecurities vanished, and relief washed over me. "Th-thanks," I stuttered.

"Come inside."

I followed Phil into his flat, taking a seat on the couch next to him. "What size gauges do you have?" I asked, eyeing the black rings in his ears.

"9mm." Phil reached up to touch them. "I doubt I'm going any bigger."

"Huh. You know, I considered getting gauges once—" Phil raised his eyebrows, "—smaller than yours, and probably a different color."

"Why didn't you?"

I shrugged. "Not really my style, I guess. But I would still like to get a piercing someday, just something smaller."

"I think you'd suit a nose piercing."

"Really?"

"Definitely."

I rubbed the side of my nose. "I dunno, I've never been a big fan of facial piercings.

Phil feigned hurt, reaching up to cover his snake bites. "What's wrong with facial piercings?

"Nothing!" I waved my hands in emphasis. "I love your piercings, it's just not something I would do!"

Phil's expression turned smug. "You love my piercings?"

"Oh, shut up!" I buried my face in my hands.

Phil laughed, pausing for a moment before asking: "Do you wanna go on top of the building?"

I looked up in surprise. "Come again?"

"The roof."

I gave Phil a blank stare. "The roof?"

The man laughed, standing up and taking my hand. "Come on."

Phil's pov

We burst through the door, a warm breeze hitting out faces. The sun was setting, and a pink tint pigmented the sky. Miles and miles of buildings and shops stretched out before us, their silhouettes sticking out against the dying sunlight.